What's in a Name
by LemonStar
Summary: ..Daryl/Beth.. From the "House Call" universe. "He reminds me so much of your brother sometimes."
1. Part I

**Just a short, random two-shot. Enjoy!**

* * *

…

Hunter was in trouble. Again. It seemed like every other day, that kid was in trouble and Beth would be calling Daryl at the garage, telling him that he needed to come to the school after work because they needed to talk with Hunter's teacher. Again.

Kid was only six and he was already a Dixon hellion and neither of them knew what to do about it. Luke was such a good kid and Abby was only two but she had never been a problem but Hunter was a whole other story. More than once, Daryl had muttered about the cursed Dixon blood but Beth had just given him one of her looks and told him there was no such thing.

"Daryl!" Dale yelled over the noise of the shop as he stuck his head out of the office. Daryl lifted his head from the hood of the car he was working on to see his boss holding up the phone. "Wife!"

Daryl wiped his hands as he crossed the garage to the office and took the phone from Dale. "Hey."

Beth sighed softly. "I need you to meet me at the school after work," she said.

Daryl sighed heavily, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. "What'd he do now?"

"I have no idea," she sighed again. "Just that we have to meet with his teacher. You don't think they'd expel a six-year-old, do you?"

Daryl didn't answer. Hunter was a Dixon. Who knew what the school would do?

And he noted that Beth sounded so tired, too.

…

He tried taking Hunter hunting once. When he was four and it was the age Daryl was when he began hunting so he thought there was no reason why his son couldn't start then, too. He had been taking Luke for a few years and the ten-year-old had just received his first crossbow, loving it as much as his art easel.

Daryl had trained him well. He knew to be quiet – talk quiet, walk quiet, even think quiet. He knew how to track and could tell the difference between the different animal tracks. He could sit for hours, barely moving, as he waited for the perfect shot and was just eight when he took down his first buck.

Hunter was nothing like his older brother or like his dad. He was too loud, too obnoxious, had too much energy running through him and he had scared away all of the game. Luke had been pissed and Hunter had been bored and Daryl had taken them both home with not even a squirrel to show for their time.

He never offered to take Hunter hunting again and Hunter never asked to go.

…

Beth looked like the sort of woman who had a six-year-old in the first grade. With her blonde hair and kind smile and her dress and cardigan sweater, she looked just as sweet as the cookies the kids all got for Valentine's Day. Daryl, on the other hand, came right from the garage, a hole in one knee of his jeans and grease on his shirt.

He met her in the front hallway and she gave him a small, relieved smile. "Hi."

Daryl didn't say anything. Just kissed her on the side of her head and then together, they walked down the familiar hallway towards the first grade classroom.

"Where are the kids?" Daryl asked.

"Maggie's watching them. Wants her and Glenn to get some practice," Beth replied.

"They can keep 'em," he grunted.

Beth squeezed his hand and smiled a little. "Even Abby?"

"'specially Abby," he nodded and she laughed softly. He looked at her and squeezed her hand back. "What do you think we should do 'bout Hunter?" He then asked in a quieter voice and watched as her smile dropped slowly.

"I have no idea," she shook her head, looking down to the ground as they walked. She sighed softly again. "He reminds me so much of your brother sometimes," she then said practically in a whisper.

Daryl didn't say anything. He had been hoping Beth hadn't picked up on that.

…

Merle wasn't a constant in their lives. Sometimes, he was there. Other times, he was in jail and the rest of the time, he was just gone – bouncing around from place to place. They never knew when one day, he would just randomly knock on their door and show up, asking Beth what was for dinner.

Like any uncle who showed up whenever he pleased – being loud and funny and bringing presents that Daryl was sure were stolen – the kids just adored him. Luke always wanted to show him his newest painting and Abby giggled and toddled up to him, always wanting to be held by him, and Hunter, well Hunter just worshiped the ground his Uncle Merle walked on.

And that scared the shit out of Daryl because Hunter was only six –years-old. He should have wanted to be like Batman or something like that. Not like Merle Dixon.

Sometimes, he wasn't even sure Merle wanted to be like Merle.

…

"I am so sorry," Beth said as the teacher showed them the desk where Hunter sat – _School Sucks_ – carved into the surface with a blue pen. "I don't even know where he learns things like this. His older brother is nothing like this."

"Yes, I remember Luke," the teacher smiled and nodded. Her smile faded though when she looked down to the vandalized desktop. "And I know you've been Luke's parents for so long now but maybe the reason Luke and Hunter aren't alike is because Luke isn't really a Dixon."

Daryl's jaw clenched a little and Beth just stared at the teacher. They weren't idiots and they knew exactly what she was saying without actually saying it. Daryl wasn't too surprised, though. He was just surprised it had taken this long for the kid's teacher to bring up having a Dixon in her class.

…

"I can talk to the principal," Beth said that night as they got dinner and the kids ready. Luke was in the living room, watching television and sketching in his pad, Abby was sitting on the kitchen floor at Beth's feet, sucking on her pacifier and playing with her stuffed bear, and Hunter was standing in the corner, facing the wall.

"Why'd you do that?" Daryl asked, setting the plates down around the table. "Think they can tranquilize 'im durin' school?"

"I meant, I can talk to the principal about giving him a new teacher," Beth said.

"Small school, Beth. Only one first grade teacher," he reminded her. "It's not a big deal." He bent down and picked up Abby, setting her down in her booster chair. Hunter began to turn his head away from the wall and Daryl physically – gently – turned it back so he was staring back at the wall. "Luke, dinner."

"She had no right to say that," Beth turned and set the bowl of green beans down on the table with a little too much force. "Hunter may be a demon but he is _our_ demon and the Dixon last name has nothing to do with it. Hunter Thomas Dixon, you face that wall until I tell you to turn around."

They heard the rumble of a beat-up pickup truck roll up to their house and Daryl sighed heavily. This was the last thing they needed tonight.

A minute later, they heard heavy boots on the porch and the door burst open.

"Somethin' sure smells good in here," Merle Dixon said, stepping into the house.

"Uncle Merle!" Luke and Hunter shouted at the same time, Hunter sprinting away from the wall and both boys running to him.

"Go on, baby girl," Daryl scooped Abby up from her chair and set her down on her feet, the toddler flying as fast as she could towards Merle on her unsteady legs.

Daryl watched as all of the kids greeted him, jumping around, wanting his full attention, and Merle was grinning, soaking it all up. He had always loved being the center of attention so having these kids all clamber for him, it was a dream come true in Merle's opinion.

He looked to Beth but she wasn't watching. Instead, she was pulling their Shake-n-Bake pork chops from the oven.

"Ha! The old stand in the corner punishment!" Merle was laughing. "Yeah, my ma used to make me do the same thing. Didn' do a damn thing for me."

"Kids!" Beth suddenly exclaimed a bit too loud. "Dinner!"

"Hey, sis, gotta place for me?" Merle asked, now holding Hunter upside down as the boy laughed with delight.

"Yeah!" Luke and Hunter both exclaimed.

Daryl watched as Beth took a deep breath and plastered a fake smile on her face.

"Of course, Merle," Beth said.

Daryl could see the tightness in her shoulders and the strain of her smile and he knew exactly how she felt because he was feeling the same tightness in his spine.

…

"Whatcha workin' on tonight, lil' brother?" Merle asked, coming out to the shed where Daryl had set up his woodshop.

After dinner, he had tried to get Merle to come out with him but the boys had stolen all of his attention and wanted to hang out with Uncle Merle and Merle had spent the past couple of hours telling them all sorts of stories of when he and Daryl were kids; stories that weren't necessarily appropriate for their kids but that hadn't stopped Merle. Nothing could stop Merle.

"Dollhouse for Abby. Boys in bed?" Daryl asked without looking up from the piece of wood he was sanding.

"Yeah, Beth was tryin' to get them down," Merle said and then laughed. "Hunter wanted none of it though. That wife of yours has already sung him three songs. That boy of yours cracks me up."

"It's not funny," Daryl muttered.

"Wha was that?" Merle asked, leaning against the table, picking up a random screwdriver laying around.

Daryl didn't answer and continue sanding.

"Hunter Thomas! You get back here right this second!" They then heard Beth shouting from inside the house.

Merle chuckled and Daryl sighed heavily, standing up straight.

"It's not funny, Merle," Daryl said. Merle looked at him, his lips still quirked in a smirk as if he knew what the problem was and it was just all so damn amusing to him. And that smirk just pissed Daryl off the more he stared at it. "You bein' around and bein' you while around Hunter is mixin' that boy all up."

Merle pushed himself off the table, tossing the screwdriver aside. "What you sayin', Daryl?" He asked, his smirk slowly fading.

"You know exactly what I'm sayin'," Daryl said. "My kids are already gonna have a hard enough time havin' Dixon as their last name. My son doesn't need to have people callin' him fuckin' _Merle_ Dixon."

Merle looked at him and Daryl waited for him to say something. Or punch him.

But Merle didn't do either of those things and Daryl admitted he was surprised. Merle didn't do anything except turn and walk out of the shed without a word. A few minutes later, he heard his truck start up and then fade away as he drove off.

Daryl sighed heavily and tried to think of another time he felt more like shit. And that was actually surprising to him because Merle made him feel like shit so much throughout their lives.

And then he wondered if he had made Merle like shit for once.

He doubted it.

…

* * *

**Thank you for reading and please review!**


	2. Part II

**The conclusion. **

* * *

...

**Part Two.**

Merle hadn't been around for about a month and Daryl told himself that he didn't care; that it was better this way. But just so he would know, he had Rick run Merle's name through the system to see if he had been perhaps arrested again. No. Merle wasn't in jail. He just wasn't around. And that was part of the norm for Merle but at the same time, Daryl knew that Merle wasn't around because of what Daryl had said to him. A month later and Daryl still felt like complete shit over it.

Abby had been fussy the night before, whimpering when either Daryl or Beth tried to put her down in her crib so the baby wound up sleeping between them in their bed and when Daryl woke up the next morning, he turned his head on the pillow to look at his daught and his wife. He wasn't surprised to see that Abby was already awake. The little girl had always been an early riser ever since she was born – just like her daddy, Beth smiled. She was also quiet like him, too. She may have just looked Beth with the blonde hair, pale skin and ridiculously big blue eyes but her personality was all Daryl. She chattered quietly to herself and played quietly with her toys by herself and Daryl already knew that she was going to make a hell of a hunter.

Quietly so not to wake Beth, Daryl stood up from the bed and first, he went to the bathroom before coming back into the bedroom and lifting Abby up in his arms. He glanced towards the clock, seeing that it was just a bit past five. Everyone else could sleep for another hour before they all had to get up and start getting ready for school and work but Daryl took Abby out to the kitchen so they could being their day. He took out a baby food jar of bananas from the cabinet and after starting the coffee machine, he sat down at the table. He fastened Abby's bib around her and then begin spoon-feeding her the yellow mash.

Merle had tried it once and declared that it didn't taste as much like shit as he had expected.

He was nervous about tonight.

Beth was performing a small set at the coffee shop as she sometimes did and Daryl would be going. Hershel and Annette were going to be babysitting the kids at the farm and though it obviously wasn't their first time watching them, Daryl wasn't so sure they could handle Hunter anymore. Hershel wasn't exactly a young man anymore who would be able to keep up with the kid and Annette would be preoccupied with watching after Abby though the girl wasn't ever any trouble whatsoever.

Lori Grimes had suggested that perhaps Hunter had ADHD and they should get him tested and though he knew Beth was leaning that way, she still wasn't completely convinced that that was what was wrong with their son and Daryl agreed with her. This was more than just being too damn hyper or active. It was something deeper. And he didn't care what Beth said. The Dixon blood definitely had something to do with it. There was just something in that family's DNA. Either you turned out well enough or you didn't. There never seemed to be any sort of in between with Dixons.

He heard a floorboard creak and lifting his head, he saw Beth come from the bedroom into the kitchen. She gave him a tired smile and a quiet 'good morning', kissing both Daryl and Abby on their heads.

"You're up earlier than usual," she said in a quiet morning voice as she took two mugs down from the cabinet.

Daryl nodded. "Just thinkin'."

Beth was quiet for a moment and then nodded her head as she poured the coffee into the two mugs. "Yeah, me too," she said softly and he knew they were both thinking about the same thing.

…

* * *

It was the official start of deer season and Daryl and Luke set out early Saturday morning, Beth having fixed them a lunch to take with them, not expecting them back until at least dusk. They had a deep freezer in the backyard where Daryl stored all of the meat he got but sometimes, Rick or Martinez would pay him for some meat, too. They would be sharing any deer gotten today with the Grimes family.

Beth had already made plans to spend her Saturday cleaning the house top to bottom and she set Abby in her playpen in the living room, a Disney movie on the television and toys scattered all around her to keep the baby girl occupied for a while. Hunter was in his bedroom, being punished for his latest stunt. He had broken into the box where Luke stored all of his paints and decided to paint the hardwood floor. Daryl had almost spanked him for that but had stopped himself befor he could.

Daryl never felt comfortable at even the thought of putting a hand to his child no matter what – for obvious reasons – and Beth wasn't necessarily comfortable with it either, her own parents having never spanked her or her siblings though they always threatened to.

So, instead, they had ordered Hunter to his room and he wasn't allowed to come out again until they said so. They didn't know what else to do and getting their son tested and medicated for ADHD was beginning to look like the only option anymore.

Around lunchtime, after dusting and vacumming the living room and washing the windows, she was in the kitchen, fixing a bologna sandwich for Hunter when Beth heard the familiar rumble of a pickup truck. She immediately lifted her head at the sound and looked out the front living room window. Sure enough, it was Merle and she couldn't help but be surprised. He hadn't shown up around here in a month and Daryl didn't tell her exactly what he had said to his brother that last night he was here but she knew whatever it was, Daryl felt plenty guilty about it and it had seemed to chase Merle away for a while.

But he was back now and Beth both felt relief that he was back and trepidation over what he was there for.

The screen door was locked and she went to go unhatch it for him, smiling as she pushed it open and then stepped back so he could enter the house.

"Hey, sis," he grinned at her. "Lookin' as beautiful as ever."

Beth smiled and rolled her eyes. "I'm a mess. Cleaning day," she told him. She then stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his shoulders in his hug, feeling him pat her back in return. "It's good to see you, Merle. Do you want some lunch? Nothing fancy. Just bologna sandwiches."

"Nah, I'm a'right for now. Maybe later. Daryl isn' around, is he?" He asked.

"Him and Luke went out hunting this morning. I'm not sure when they'll be back."

"Hunter here?" Merle asked, glancing towards the closed bedroom door as if he already knew the boy was being punished in there. He looked back to Beth. "Would ya' mind if I took the boy out? Just for a lil' bit? Think I need to have a talk with 'im."

Beth found herself not even hesitating. She couldn't deny that it scared her sometimes how much Hunter seemed to act like his uncle. Wild without fear or care for consequence. He was only six and seemed to care little for anything except getting in trouble. She obviously hadn't known Merle when he was younger but Daryl didn't deny it when she sometimes made the comparison which led her to believe that she wasn't too far off.

But maybe, right now, Merle was the only one who could help Hunter. If Merle was looking to actually help Hunter.

"Of course," Beth nodded and then went to the bedroom door. She pushed it open to find Hunter sitting on the floor, playing with his trainset. "Your Uncle Merle is here," she told him and for the first time all day, her son's face lit up and Hunter lept to his feet, rushing out past her and straight for Merle.

Merle grinned and hoisted the boy up in a quick hug before setting him down again. He looked to Beth. "We'll just go for a walk. Won't go too far."

She smiled faintly and nodded and watched as the two left the house, Hunter chattering excitedly to Merle, telling him all about the paint as if it was the funniest thing ever but for the first time, Merle wasn't laughing.

…

* * *

They sat down on a fallen log, the house still in view through the trees, and Hunter was grinning excitedly, anticipating for why Uncle Merle was there that afternoon. He had missed him in the time he had been away but when he asked his daddy about it, he had just shrugged his shoulders and said he didn't know where Merle was. Running off was just something Merle did.

Hunter thought his daddy was cool. Of course he did. Most boys thought their daddys were cool. But his Uncle Merle was even cooler. He was funny and loud and wild and Hunter looked at him and wanted to be just like him. Merle did whatever he wanted whenever he wanted and Hunter was only six but already, he loved the idea all of that freedom had. His daddy rode a motorcycle and had tattoos and hunted with a crossbow but he was so quiet most of the time and had done the complete opposite of what Merle had done. He had a house and a wife and kids and Hunter didn't even know where Merle lived. He had never seen it but he could just imagine that it was just Merle in his own space and Hunter was jealous of that.

"Need to talk to you, Hunter, 'bout how you're behavin'," Merle sighed.

Hunter's smile slid into a frown. "Soundin' like my daddy," he muttered.

"Well, maybe you should be listenin' to your daddy," Merle said. "Why aren't you?"

Hunter shrugged but didn't answer.

"Your ma and ol' man love you more than anythin'. I've never seen two parents who love their kid more but you're drivin' 'em crazy and it seems like for no reason," Merle said, looking over to the six year old who looked just like Daryl had when he was that age. Beth could never be accused of running around on Daryl.

Hunter's frown was one of confusion. This didn't sound like Uncle Merle at all. Uncle Merle always got the biggest kick out of the newest thing that got him into trouble.

Merle sighed, scratching the back of his head. This was why Daryl was the one with kids and he was just the cool Uncle Merle. He didn't know how to talk to a kid about something serious. But he needed to do this. Both for Hunter and for Daryl and Beth.

"You know what jail is, Hunter?" Merle asked.

"Sure," Hunter nodded. "You're stuck in a tiny room with bars and you can't get out."

"'s right," Merle nodded. "Can't sleep, can't eat, can't even shower without askin' one of the guards for permission. Can't go anywhere or do nothin' until they tell you that you can. It's not fun. You know how many times I've been in jail?"

Hunter shook his head.

"Can't even count that high," Merle said, looking at him. "You wanna go to jail?"

Hunter frowned, still confused. "No," he shook his head.

"I know you're only six but I was ten the first time I went and it was 'cause I was actin' like you've been. Always misbehavin' and not doin' a damn thing about makin' myself act good like everyone wanted me to. Like I was _supposed_ to."

Hunter shook his head again. "Mommy and daddy don't care. They're always too busy with Abby or with Luke."

Ah, shit, Merle almost groaned. That was something he wasn't prepared for in the least. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? He scratched the back of his head again.

"That's not true," Merle said. "Your parents love you and you know they do. Your daddy and me never had that growin' up and with you, I know your daddy wants to be what he never had 'imself. Wants to give you the best life he can. They love Luke and Abby but don't think for one second that they don't love you, too, 'cause that's bullshit you're just tellin' yourself as an excuse to act up."

Hunter didn't say anything to that. Just dug his shoe into the dirt and din't look at him anymore.

"Before you were born and before he met your ma, huntin' was the one thing your dad loved more than anythin' in this world. But then you were born and they named you Hunter because just like that, you were the thing he loved more than anythin'."

Hunter lifted his head and looked at Merle, still not saying anything.

"I ever lie to you, boy?" Merle asked.

Hunter shook his head. "Never, Uncle Merle."

"And I'm not gonna be startin' now. Not over somethin' like this," Merle said. He then put a hand on the back of Hunter's head. "Try bein' good. Just try. It'll make your parents happy."

Hunter nodded then after a moment of thinking it over. "I'll try," he agreed quietly.

"Good," Merle nodded too and flashed him a grin. "Now, let's head back. Your ma said somethin' about bologna sandwiches and that sounds damn good."

"Damn good!" Hunter echoed with a grin, bouncing up to his feet.

Merle snickered, standing up, too. "Don't go bein' my parrot neither. Your ol' man's already pissed enough at me."

…

* * *

Beth had no idea what Merle had said to him that afternoon but she nearly fell over when Hunter began cleaning up the dishes from dinner, carrying them from the table to the sink, and she and Daryl looked at one another, clearly wondering if they were both hallucinating.

Merle just sat there though and grinned.

…

* * *

**Thank you for reading and please review!**


End file.
